Here is the deviantart: [link]
I hope it goes well. Wish me luck!


more pomegranate sketchThe hall was thick with attendants and noblemen, ambassadors and every other person important enough to have wrangled their way in. Though the hall was very large, on either side of the aisle leading up to the psuedo-throne at the front, people stood shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, occasionally jostlingbut in a quiet wayto get to the front or anywhere with a better view.more pomegranate sketch
The prince sat quite still in his ornate chair, waiting. Stationed so that he could see him clearly without moving his head was Jareth. Jareth was present at every function, at any event of state, so that he could sign the meanings of each word to t


Satin and CurlsSatin and CurlsSatin and Curls
He did not look up as the small bell over his shops door rang out. Two people entered, from the sound of their footsteps. The afternoon was just fading into the darker brightness that preceded twilight. He finished sewing the button he was working on, then lifted his head. There was a woman and a man. The man had only one eyea black eyepatch covered the right side of his face, half hidden by a long fringe of brown hair. The shop owner glanced down at the mans hands and saw faint white scars criss-crossing the skin there. He looked at the woman then. She had wide cheekbones


Pomegranate SketchPomegranates, red carnations, an apple. He always left red things by her door. She picked the russet wicker basket up and carried it into her house. She set it on the polished wooden table in her kitchen. Then she went back to her weaving. She had been weaving the forest outside, rich greens and yellows and browns, with the occasional purple and white of wildflowers. There was no red at all. But now she found her hands seeking out soft skeins of scarlet, crimson, trying to find poinsettias beside small pools and roses in the middle of her golden grass clearing. This always happened. She put aside the red threads and stared at thePomegranate Sketch
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No cactus is covered with thorns to the point where there is no place for a single flower.
Email me my photographs today. They are for Lily.
/almost to the end of pestermode, don't worry.
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"Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a darn."
- Most sincerely from Stephen King.
So now it's official. ^______^
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No cactus is covered with thorns to the point where there is no place for a single flower.
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"Stay with me in this hidden place"
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"Stay with me in this hidden place"
You made a collection from our photoshoot!
EEE! :squeals in delight:
Thanks. ~
--
"Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a darn."
- Most sincerely from Stephen King.
So now it's official. ^______^
--
"Stay with me in this hidden place"
For one, thank you for being online more often. 'tis a blessing.
Also, thanks for the comments and fave!
I'm calling you tonight, by the way. Lot of things to talk about, yes? Good, glad you agree.
--
"Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a darn."
- Most sincerely from Stephen King.
So now it's official. ^______^
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Sindero.net
Clubs:
~norwegianART | =PanoramaClub | *HDR-Club
Thanks for all the faves and comments! I'm happy you like all the pictures I took of you. As weird as this may sound, I'm very proud, as a photographer, that I could take pictures a girl who doesn't think she's pretty enjoys.
Plus, I'm just plain flattered you like the pictures.
--
"Stephenie Meyer can't write worth a darn."
- Most sincerely from Stephen King.
So now it's official. ^______^
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